Monday, January 26, 2009

Hope has two daughters: Anger and Courage

First, let me begin with two simple statements.

I am very grateful that I went to South Africa.
and
I am very angry.

Getting to the root of my anger will take a little time, and I don't wish to bombard anyone who hasn't been in my head during the trip (which pretty much encompasses the known world). So then, as I reflect on what I learned, perhaps the best place to start is actually at the ending.

Tuesday, Jan. 20th was our last day in South Africa, and was marked by Pres. Obama's inauguration-- no small affair in South Africa either. We watched the inauguration and the address from a hotel room after the bar's feed broke down. This was our last day in Stellenbosch, and I for one was determined to make the absolute most of it.

We'd spent the morning with Prof. Allan Boesak, a very influential member of the Uniting Reformed Church of South Africa and former member of the ANC. He spoke quite candidly on his role in politics, his incarceration and later exoneration on (false) fraud charges, and his opinion of the church and it's role post-apartheid. I really appreciated his candid answer to my question, "What is the white Dutch Reformed Church doing to make reparations and restitution for its role in supporting apartheid?" It was the DRC theology that really propped up the institution of separating races as a legitimate God-sanctioned policy. The church had signed the Belhar Confession--which I will need to detail later--but this 'confession' is also a serious call to action, and I did not know what actions the church had taken. They had rejected apartheid as a heresy, but what theology had replaced it? Some form of liberation theology? Anything?

Boesak's answer was, unfortunately, exactly what I feared: the white church hadn't done much. It seems stuck in itself, claiming the Belhar as a new confession but not moving forward. Of course, this is his opinoin, but I had surmised as much myself.

And one is constantly reminded that apartheid ended in 1994, only 15 years ago. The attitude with which one states this fact alternates it's emphasis; "it was ONLY 15 years ago" (as if to say, look at our progress in such a short time) or to say "it was 15 YEARS ago" (to say, we have not come far.) And both intonations are correct.

And on this day, the last day of our trip, I was very angry. Angry most of all for two reasons:
I had seen, again, the diabolical pattern of human destruction, the complete willingness to harm another human being for one's personal gain. Let's go through the short list, the ones I can recall easily off the top of my head, in no particular order:

American Slavery.
African/European Slave trade.
American Jim Crow laws.
The German Holocaust of Jews, undesirables and dissenters.
Native American holocaust and colonization
Australian colonization
The Newark protests
The Civil War
District 6 in Cape Town, South Africa
South African apartheid
East and West Germany
The entrance into the Holy Land, as described in Judges and Joshua
North Korea
Political prisioners in China
Ireland
Scotland
ah, well, you might as well name just about every country.

At this point I was mad. The pattern seems unstoppable. One group has more power than another, and uses it to get the land, money, lives, whatever of another group. Throughout all of human history, this ugly fact reveals itself in grandiose and microscopic ways: humans are jerks. This was the first source of my anger.

What could stop this onslaught?

I was, after all, attending as a member of a seminary, a theologian who would obviously summon up the answer, "Why, Jesus of course. Only God can save humanity from herself, only the grace of forgiveness can pull us out of ourselves and towards a higher calling."

Except that the role of the church, in the vast majority (arguably all) of these cases was one of silence, complicity and even outright support of injustice.
This was the second source of my anger. And I won't lie, it really upset me. It upset me that my tradition was suspect, my very skin was complicit, and it stood to argument that even God presented some terrible questions.

So in all of this, where was the hope?

I was at the end of a hard week of questions, and I knew both what I wanted the answer to be, and what I felt that it couldn't be, or at the very least, what the answer was not. Where was the Church in all this? God was there, to be sure, but...words fail. I was, and am, mad. That's all we need to know now.

-------------------

The inaugration was great; the oath got bungled a bit but the speech was, to me, inspiring. People in our room had tears in their eyes; people on the street congratulated us for electing "the right man". We were told, repeatedly, that Americans had finally done the right thing. That Americans had given back hope to a world we had stolen it from. That was humbling.

The next day in the Cape Town paper, as we loaded up our vans to leave the country, was this letter to President Obama, printed directly below the full page inaugural spread--a whole edition devoted to President Obama whose headline read "Obama puts the boot in: President orders hald to all Guantanamo Bay tribunals"'

Paper: The Star
Cape Town, South Africa

Headline: Madiba salutes “new voice of hope”

Dear Mister President,

We are greatly honored to join the millions around the globe congratulating you on taking office as the President of the United States of America. We believe that we are witnessing something truly historic, not only in the political annals of your great nation, the United States of America, but of the world.
Your election to this high office has inspired people as few other events in recent times have done. Amid all of the human progress made over the last century, the world in which we live remains one of great divisions, conflict, inequalities, poverty and injustice. Among many around the world, a sense of hopelessness had set in as so many problems remains unsolved and seemingly incapable of being resolved.
You, Mr. President, have brought a new voice of hope that these problems can be addressed and that we can in fact change the world and make it a better place.
We are in some ways reminded today of the excitement and enthusiasm in our own country at the time of our transition to democracy. People, not only in our country but around the world, were inspired to believe that, through common human effort, injustice can be overcome and that together a better life for all can be achieved.
Your presidency brings hope of new beginnings in the relations between nations, that the challenges we all face, be they economic, the environment, or in combating poverty or the search for peace, will be addressed with a new spirit of openness and accommodation.
There is a special excitement on our continent today, Mr. President, in the knowledge that you have such strong personal ties with Africa. We share in that excitement and pride.
We are aware that the expectations of what your presidency will achieve are high and that the demands on you will be great. We therefore wish you and your family strength and fortitude in the challenging days and years that lie ahead.
You will always be in our affections as a young man who dared to dream and to pursue that dream. We wish you well.

Sincerely,
Nelson R. Mandela

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I'm angry, and I'm hopeful. I know that much of this hope rests in a world that does not follow the will of God, so I'm looking for a better way to hope. I know that my hope must rest in God,
but I'm angry, not just a little at God.

This might take a little time.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

My dad once told me that anger is a secondary reaction to mask fear, which seemed to me to make my anger illegitimate. I think he was wrong.
I think some situations provoke anger because they are outrageous. It's a due relation. A discerning mind cannot go on smiling in the face of real injustice.
I think you are right to react to what you witnessed with anger. But anger cannot last, and Dad was right about that. It comes and it goes.
I don't know what you will learn from your anger, whether you will decide to try to change what you saw there or take it as a warning and become observant to the injustice around us here, the injustice we ourselves create. But I do know that most people walk around oblivious much of the time, and it's very very hard to recognize the evil we do in the name of righteous anger.
I struggle with the virtue of discernment in my life. I want to be discerning but not judgmental. But sometimes, the situation is so outrageous I can only feel disgust and anger. Underneath MY anger, yes, there is fear.
When you become a pastor, you will have to take me as part of your flock and help me sort this all out.
Love you, little mama. Get sleep.

Eve said...

I haven't talked to you in ages--and I was just in Staunton! I drove past your old house and was more than a little sad that you weren't there.

I loved this post. I am commenting because a friend of mine spoke in church about something that addresses this--or at least it spoke to me.

She said, "We are not here to have families, we are not here to gain bodies, although all these things are wonderful--we are here first and foremost to be redeemed."

I would elaborate--but mull that over for a bit. I would explain, but you're smart. We will live, and we will die. Sometimes I think we forget that dying isn't always a bad thing. Also--sometimes God lets bad things happen in order to justify judging those who let it happen later.

But this is a horribly complicated issue. And it angers me too.